


Let's Put The Glass Down For Good

by LapisLazooti



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, And Gets One, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunk Texting, Heart-to-Heart, Heavy Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Intervention, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Recovery, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 16:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15123191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapisLazooti/pseuds/LapisLazooti
Summary: Tony finds out he and Peter have some unfortunate things in common.





	Let's Put The Glass Down For Good

**Author's Note:**

> While nothing is shown or goes into great detail - this covers some heavy topics such as alcoholism, past physical abuse, past sexual abuse towards a minor, and very brief and implied mentions of suicide, if you squint. Please proceed with caution!

February 16th, 2:42 AM Tony Stark received a series of messages from Peter that were worrying, at best. The teen didn't text him all that often to begin with, not wanting to bother him, but texts this late (early?) were unheard of. It wasn't a school night, that really would have been worrying, but the content was enough to bring the state of concern back with full force. 

'hey midddder strak' The first one read. Had he just woken up and deliriously decided to text him? That would certainly explain the sloppy typing, but-

'u are SO cOol man we shuld like hang out morr if ur down i bet u cold teach me sum real RaD stuf'

Something in Tony's gut nagged at him, telling him these weren't half-asleep, delirious texts. That isn't something Peter would say. To his face, at least. And he wasn't an idiot, his spelling would be better even if he wasn't fully awake. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thought out a careful reply. To not scare him off with questions right off the bat that may offend him if his theory wasn't correct, or make him embarrassed if it was. He felt like the latter was more likely.

'Yeah, of course, kiddo. hey, set an alarm in your phone right now for tomorrow at 11, I'll have Happy pick you up around then and we can have breakfast together, k?'

'THAT SOUND RA D' The speed of the reply was almost alarming.

'Are you at a party right now?' His fingertip hesitantly met with the 'send' button, holding his breath while he awaited an answer.

'holY shot houw did u know? do u have lik a secret camera here::>?'

The corners of his mouth tugged down into a small frown. He wished he did, in all honesty - but even without them, it wasn't hard to tell Peter was absolutely shitfaced. Peter was fifteen fucking years old - even he didn't start drinking that early. And that actually scared him. 'just a wild guess. see you tomorrow, be safe'. When he didn't receive any more rushed replies, he returned his phone to its place on the bedside table. He needed time to think, needed time to process this and figure out what in the actual fuck he was going to say to Peter tomorrow if he even set that alarm. Jesus Christ, this wasn't something he was expecting to have to deal with. Not yet, at least.

\---

Tony didn't get much sleep that night. He ended up getting out of bed at five and pouring himself a drink.

...Probably not the wisest choice considering what he was about to lecture the teenager on in a few hours. He just needed to think, and a little Jack Daniels was just what he needed to get the juices flowing. What were his options here? Was this a problem, or was this just a young kid experimenting for the first time? Was this something he should tell May? What would he say if it was a problem, anything coming out of his mouth would be the epitome of hypocritical. Why was it an issue, if that was the case? There was always... A seed that grew into the shitty tree of alcoholism. Bullying or Uncle Ben's murder were his best guesses, perhaps a bit of both.

He really needed to slow his roll. He had no reason to think this was a problem. He knew it could easily become one, of course - and he wanted to do everything in his power to keep that from happening. He didn't want this kid to end up like him.

Not like this.

Tony thought about every single word he would say in any situation that could arise right up until he heard the knock on the door at a quarter past noon. "Come on in, kid," He called from the living room. Peter peeked in a few moments later and he could instantly tell his assumptions from last night were unsettlingly accurate. Hair messy and deep bags under his eyes, movements stiff and sore. He was absolutely hungover. Great.

"Hey, um- I put this on my calendar when we, uh, scheduled this, and that was a while ago. I didn't put anything else on the event except that I was coming here, so if you could remind me what we're doing..." His voice cracked with anxiety. He knew something was going on and Tony knew he knew, too.

"Uh-huh, awhile ago being last night," Tony noted. He leaned back into the couch, crossing his legs as he watched the boy tense up at being called out. "Tell me, spider boy, was last night your first time drinking?"

Peter swallowed thickly, developing Adam's apple dipping down as he gulped his lies down. His mentor was using that, 'i'm not in the mood to take any shit' tone of voice, and that was scary as all hell. He was a terrible liar and Tony was a much, much more experienced one - he knew how to see through the bullshit. No use in lying. "N-No. Please don't tell Aunt May! She'll be so upset and she might think you're a bad example, or think my friends are bad examples and won't let me hang out with them anymore-"

"Is any of that true?"

"...No."

The kid sounded like he was being honest, despite the hesitance. It was a difficult subject. "I can't promise that I won't tell your Aunt at some point if it becomes a problem, but I'll keep this between us for now. How long has this been going on?"

"T-Two years, sir."

Oh, Jesus. How was he even getting his hands on alcohol so young? Why would he want to, more importantly? Thirteen. He had to take a deep breath before patting the seat beside him, observing as a reluctant Peter came to join him on the sofa. "Wanna tell me why?" 

"Not really." The way his shoulders bunched up close to his frame and how his eyes stayed focused on the carpeted floor spoke volumes about how uncomfortable he was. But this wasn't something that could be put off. If it had already been going on for so long, this needed to stop. Now. And Tony was willing to disregard both of their comforts for now in order to put an end to this, ere it got out of hand.

"...Listen, kid. I know this talk is gonna fucking suck for you, but it's gonna suck for me too. So bear with me will you?" He nearly pleaded; earning him a mildly confused and curious look from the young man beside him. "It's not a secret I drink a lot. Fuck, probably not a secret that sometimes... I drink too much. I have trauma out the wazoo," They both paused to chuckle awkwardly at that. "So if anyone is gonna understand why you drink, it's me. ...So please, Peter, just cut the crap and tell me what's wrong so I can help you."

Silence. A long, painful silence, neither of them wanting to speak up first. Tony waited to see if Peter would work up the courage to say something - but when nothing came, he blurted out some information he knew he'd regret sharing later. That didn't matter right now. "My dad gave me a concussion once," Tony admitted flatly. Peter whipped his head around to look at him, eyes wide and looking for an explanation. Tony continued when he felt like it was expected. "Howard was a real shithead. It was mostly neglect and emotional abuse until I was a teenager and I had the balls to stand up for myself, and he was an old man with a growing substance abuse problem. Then... Y'know, I'd defend myself, he'd get angry. Thew me to the ground in the workshop once and slammed my head against the concrete a few times. He only stopped because my mom came in and pulled him off of me. And he was - he was never violent with her, so he stormed out instead. She held me in her arms and sobbed while I drifted in and out of consciousness and tried my damnedest not to bleed on her. ...We told the nurses in the ER I fell down the basement stairs." His typical snarky tone was completely drained from his voice as he spoke his quiet words. 

More silence, though this bout of reticence didn't last nearly as long. "Holy shit," Peter said beneath his breath. Tony decided not to warn him for the foul language right now. This just wasn't the time, especially when the kid spoke up again. He tangled his fingers together, twisting and pulling at them, all around becoming extra fidgety once he forced words to leave his open mouth. "When I was... Um, t-ten, I think? I had a friend who had an older brother - S...Skip,"

The way Peter bleated the name out, got caught on it like something was stuck in his throat made Tony's stomach curl into knots. It was the same way he stumbled over Howard's name sometimes - too reminiscent of PSAs and things he had heard on the news. He dreaded where this was going, praying to a god he absolutely did not believe in that this wasn't going where he suspected.

"And... I was having a sleepover with my friend one night, and his brother came in after he had fallen asleep and said he wanted to show me something." Peter's hands were in fists now. Curled tightly around denim as they rested in his lap, the feeling of the rough fabric distraction enough to allow him to go on. "And he showed me a bunch of magazines with, um, p-porn in them- and asked if... if...."

Tony's heart dropped like the goddamn ball on New Year's Eve. He didn't want Peter to have to say it - he didn't want to hear those words come out of his mouth - so he pulled him into a tight hug, instead. He held him like he would have if the teen had just gone through this hours before; embrace holding him in place in the most non-threatening way possible. He wanted him to feel secure. To feel grounded. "You don't have to say anything else. I understand." Stark muttered against messy hair. 

Peter bawled into Tony's shoulder. Frame rising and falling with shaky sobs after saying all of that aloud for the first time. He hadn't expected the first person to learn about his biggest secret to be Tony Fucking Stark, the man he'd looked up to for so much of his life. But y'know, life threw some curve balls sometimes, like finding out what his mentor had been through. He wouldn't have been able to open up about his own issues if he hadn't heard that. "Th-Thank you." He blubbered. He couldn't bring himself to elaborate on his words, sniffles and choked out sobs completely stopping him from doing so.

And he knew. He shooshed him quietly, delicately swaying them from side to side. He let Peter cry, let his usual incompetence revolving around emotions wash away in favor of comforting him. He knew what it was like to bottle trauma up, to never speak up about someone who hurt you. Jesus Christ, he knew a little too well - knew how it felt to finally talk about it. Similar to having that kind of stomach virus where you were curled over a bowl for a few hours with no relief from the pain until your body purged itself of its contents. Where it still ached, but the fact that everything was out left you in a haze of relief that the agony had eased up. The way admittance of trauma tumbled from your lips for the first time left you with a thumping, oddly relieving ache. He felt the kid's pain. He let his own muted tears fall until Peter's subsided and refused to pull away until he made a move first. 

Peter pulled back just fast enough to see the billionaire wipe his eyes of the sleeve of his own t-shirt. He did the same and avoided making eye contact when the fabric fell back to his arm and there was nothing left to obscure his face. "...I have n-nightmares about it sometimes, and- and sometimes I just can't stop thinking about it, or I'll see that old friend and he'll try to talk to me and I just break down. So I drink sometimes, 'c-cause it keeps me from thinking about it. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy and numb at the same time, just..."

"You don't have to explain yourself. I get it. I have... Flashbacks to a lot of things, not just what I told you. So I get it. I really do. But-" He took a deep breath. He was about to dig himself into a real big ass hole for this kid. He didn't know what else to do. "I can't have you walking in the same goddamn footsteps I followed in. You're gonna get messed up if you keep doing this, take it from me. If you promise to stop drinking, I will too." When Peter seemed skeptical, he continued. "And we'll talk to May about getting a therapist if you want. She doesn't have to know why if you don't want to tell her. We can't risk losing an Avenger because of alcohol poisoning, or-" He doesn't finish his thought. He doesn't want to think about Peter drunkenly doing something stupid and irreversible, didn't want to think about him doing anything like that while sober. He knew firsthand the road he was going down could easily lead to that. Even if it didn't, it wouldn't be getting better.

"Okay," He blurted out with a quick nod. "I'll do it. I'll- I'll try to stop, and I'll... think about going to therapy, at least. I don't want to be drunk when someone really needs my help. I wanna be there for the little guys. And the guys who're made to feel little."

The determined expression carved into Peter's face made Tony's sunken heart fill with hope. It was cathartic. To talk about this, to help someone who - as of tonight, reminded him of his younger self too much - to assist in keeping him off of the dangerous train tracks he'd already walked so many times in his life, still teetered along the edge of. 

"I'm so goddamn proud of you, Pete. You aren't a little guy anymore."

**Author's Note:**

> WHOO. been awhile since i've written some hard angst like this. I read an article about a comic from 1984 - Spider-man and Power-Pack Volume 1. It was a PSA comic against child abuse where Peter comforts an abuse victim by sharing his own story. and hey WOW that's fucked up! somehow that led us down this hellhole and now it's 2:30 and im sad over my own fic


End file.
